Sephi stood in front of me and put a hand on my shoulder. “You know the Ashryn Waltz?”
“Yes.” I extended a hand and stopped. “But something… I’m used to a different arm position, I think.”
“Oh!” She removed her own hand. “You are most likely used to leading. You’ll have to reverse steps andarm positions. The taller partner always leads.”
I closed my eyes, trying to imagine everything in reverse. Enough to give me a headache. Although the thought of being called her partner gave me the warm fuzzies. “It might be easier if you lead me through the basic steps.”
“Very well.” She tipped her head, her smile and crooked lift of her eyebrows betraying a wicked satisfaction. “It is a six-count step, with a slight pause between three and four, and a sweep on steps two and five. The sweep is more accentuated in the local version of the dance.”
I bit my lip, trying to envision the steps in reverse from what I was used to. “I usually step forward with the left, so now I would have to step back with the right.”
“Precisely, Mister Thist…Theo.”
“I believe for dance practice we may use our full names. Lady Arazniros.”
Our hands slid into position around each other’s shoulders and waists. The exact position felt a little odd, but our closeness, the cup of her slim, elegant hand around my waist, the sensation of our hands clasped together felt more natural than any dance partner I could remember.
“I will start,” she said. “One-two-three. Four-five-six. Good. A little more sweep.”
After a few minutes, I no longer needed to look at my feet. After a few more, we no longer counted aloud.We practiced the basic step for a solid ten minutes, resetting my muscle memory. The circle variation went much easier.
“You are picking this up quite nicely, Mister Thistlewood. Are you ready to try a figure?”
“Possibly. A pity we don’t have any music, so I could be sure I can do it when I’m not counting.”
She cocked her head. “We do. In one of these boxes.”
She dug through a couple of boxes to produce a polished wooden chest. “Here it is.”
“A music box?”
“Only a basic model, I am afraid, but it does have interchangeable cylinders. I have a few songs suitable for the waltz.”
We resumed position, listening to the beat for a few seconds before continuing.
One-two-three. Four-five-six.
I mentally ticked off the steps, sliding my legs forward, back, and sideways in sync with the sweeps of her long, graceful legs. She moved. I moved. We were together, tantalizingly close, and yet the ease at which we moved together was exhilarating. Maybe not better than an embrace, simply wonderful in a completely different way.
The music box clinked to an awkward stop. We kept dancing.
“You are picking this up remarkably well, Mister Thistlewood.”
“I have an excellent dance partner… Sephi.”
“Are we back to informal names?” She came to a stop, stocking feet together.
“Perhaps.” I smiled at her several seconds.
“You seem to be enjoying yourself.”
“I have one regret.”
“Which is?”
“The lead partner is the one who cups his or her hand around the other’s waist.”
“And?”
